


and tell her i love her

by youchuu



Category: THE iDOLM@STER
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cliche as Hell, F/F, straight out of 2006 except not straight at all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13345161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youchuu/pseuds/youchuu
Summary: focuses on the three members of HYR and their individual relationships and conflicts in a suspiciously american high school. because i can.





	1. Chapter 1

**– H –**

The halls are bustling with traffic in the space between classes. I clutch my books and binder to my chest, keeping a steady forward pace—I have to make it to English, after all—but my mind is elsewhere. Where exactly it's gone off to, I don't know. Maybe it took a train to Neverland. My feet are moving of their own accord, solely by memory.

Which is exactly why, soon after, I'm tripping over those same two feet and bumping into someone, my things spilling all over the floor. “I'm sorry!” I say, knowing full well that this is just something I'm prone to. It's probably preventable, but I'm such a klutz that I don't know I'm doing it until it's already over with. I don't look up at the other person, not at first, too busy gathering everything I've dropped.

“Let me help.” It's a soft, feminine voice, and then I see her long hair fall sleek and straight as she bends. I lose my train of thought again, wondering if it's actually very nice to touch, and in this daze I reach for a pen on the floor. Except, it isn't the pen I touch. It's her hand. I feel her draw back, and realize what I've done.

“S-Sorry! ...Again,” I say, the sensation still lingering on my skin. I look up at her, finally, and lose my words. Long lashes… Brown eyes like chocolate powder…? Her appearance isn't flashy, from her hair to her simple makeup, if any, to her choice in clothing, but something about her just kind of hits me in the gut. She's _pretty_. I realize that neither of us have said anything in what feels like forever, and feel suddenly very self conscious. “U-Um… Thank you! I'm Haruka,” is what comes out finally. I smile at her as cheerfully as I can. “Resident klutz, you know how it is.”

We both stand, everything picked up off the floor, and she hands me the rest of my things. There's some degree of surprise on her face, but it shifts into a good-natured, maybe a little reserved, smile, to match mine. “I'm Chihaya… Though, you should probably get to class. You don't want to be late.”

“Huh?” I look around. The hall has emptied. Only a few people remain, hurrying about to get where they need to be before the bell chimes. “ _Ah!_ You're right! Thank you, see you around!” The words fall out my lips without a thought, and despite a little tug somewhere inside me telling me to stay, I don't look back. I have to make it to English, or else Mr. Akabane… Well, he's not a bad guy, but I don't really want to put that to the test.

I just hope I can see her again.

**– Y –**

I don't stand out very much. My voice is really quiet, and I get scared easily. People say that I'm shy, but… Even if I wore a weird flashy outfit or dyed my hair or something, I don't think she would ever notice me. She'll never look at me with those eyes. I mean… I'm not really her type, I guess.

She likes flashy, bright and shiny girls. She likes girls who speak their mind and aren't afraid, not like me. She likes girls who wear short skirts and dangly necklaces, whose hair has a life of its own, whose nails are polished fresh lime green. She likes Miki.

I can see them from here, where I'm sitting on the bleachers. She's clinging to her arm all tight and trying to pull her away from her teammates. I can't hear what they're saying, but I can imagine. Makoto is trying to put her foot down, but Miki looks at her with those puppy eyes and she can't say no. I know that she's weak to pretty girls. She always has been, for as long as I've known her. If she ever saw a girl in trouble… I remember one time a man ended up with a broken nose.

That's just how Makoto is. She's everyone's prince.

I begin to daydream, my eyes drifting. Normally, someone would ask “what does she see in her,” but in my case it’s more like “what could she possibly see in me.” I know why she didn’t choose me, why she’s never seen me in that light at all. I’m the plain old friend, while she’s… Dashing, smooth and dazzling. There’s no way I could stand next to her, when Miki’s there, the perfect match. I can just see her smile, her soft dark hair falling over her forehead. And her voice in my ears…

“Yukiho? You there?”

I nearly jump out of my seat. “M-Makoto! Umm, I thought you were spending time with...” I trail off, fumbling with my words. She understands, at least surface level, without my having to say. Her expression shifts: a bashful smile, a scratch on the cheek, averted eyes.

“Ahh… We kinda had another fight. She just ran off.” She gestures, but I don’t look where her hand goes. It doesn’t matter to me. What does matter is that Makoto is here right now, confiding in me. I want to be there for her.

That said, their on-and-off breakups have been getting more frequent. It’s not really any of my business, I guess, what happens between them. I’m just concerned for her. And...okay, wondering why it couldn’t be me. Even if it’s an awful thought to have now. Even though I know I should be the friend she needs. I have to swallow all that, no matter if I want to cry. “Um, I know I’m like this, but if you need someone to listen, or...”

“Thanks,” she says, with everything in her voice saying she means it. “Though, to be honest, I’m not too beat up about it. That’s just how Miki is.” She chuckles, and my heart skips a beat.

It isn’t fair.

**– R –**

Sometimes, I think about how easy it would be if I could just tell her. Just up and say, to my best friend, “Hey! No big deal but, I’m actually in love with you.” I wonder how she’d react to that, what kind of expression she’d make. Of course… It _is_ a big deal, and I can’t tell her, let alone so casually. So I don’t say this, or anything like it. Even if I wanted to, there’s no way I could get the words out.

And so, instead, I say, “Have you seen that new movie yet? You know, the one with the...”

“The drama?” she responds, not missing a beat. “I saw it over the weekend, since you recommended it. I really enjoyed it!” Her voice is bright and sweet as she speaks, which is familiar to me by now, no surprise there, but my heart always lifts a bit for some reason. I try not to think about these things, and for the most part, I manage. There’s no point in mulling it over endlessly, especially when I have no chance to begin with.

Before I can respond, her hand is slipping into mine. Light touch, casual gesture. I should be used to this by now—she _is_ the affectionate type—but maybe because my own feelings are distinctly not in “good friend” territory, I can’t help the frustrating warmth that rises in my face. I can only hope she doesn’t notice. Because I do my best to ignore it, but sometimes she catches me off guard. And I don’t know what to do with myself. “Um, Azusa...” I start to say, feeling very awkward for multiple reasons, the biggest of which being that we’re currently standing outside her locker.

“Next time, won’t you watch it with me?” she says, in that slightly coy way that drives me crazy. Does she have any idea what she’s doing? ...No, of course she doesn’t. In all likelihood, she has no clue of the effect she has on me. And it’s better that way, I know that. I just wish it wasn’t so difficult; she’s easily one of the densest people I’ve ever met. Possibly the densest. Hard to say.

“If you want,” I say, with some hesitation, “but we should watch one neither of us have seen. I mean, to avoid anything like last time.” I keep up the conversation as best I can, even though I’m a little bit distracted. I don’t want her to know that, though.

“Last time?” she says, thoughtful. “Oh! You mean, that time. I didn’t mind it though, it was nice to see you so excited.” _Why does she keep saying such embarrassing things?_ Is she trying to kill me? Is this homicidal intent in action? Death by crush?

“There’s nothing more annoying than someone talking during a movie, though...” I stop. Think of something, quick! “A-Anyway, we should get going. It’d be bad if either of us were late, and you and I both know how easily you get lost.” My words come out in a flurry. Too fast. No chance to breathe. After a pause that feels way too uncomfortable, I sputter, “But, um, text me and we can...talk about that. Plan it out, I mean.”

She nods, satisfied, a smile on her face. “Alright. I will!”

Yeah, definitely death by crush.


	2. Chapter 2

No one knows Chihaya. I’ve asked friends, friends of friends, people from different years… No one seems to have heard of her. At most, they’ll hum and say that the name sounds familiar, but doesn’t actually ring a bell. And I’ll thank them and move on. I haven’t seen her since that day, not even in passing. And I’ve looked! I’ve poked around places I don’t usually go, thinking maybe I’d spot her, but no luck yet. I’m beginning to wonder if I had an encounter with a ghost, or something.

But a ghost’s hands wouldn’t be that soft.

I’m having lunch right now, sitting outside in the fresh air, a cool breeze ruffling my shirt sleeves. Eating in the cafeteria here is optional, so when the weather is nice, most people are out here relaxing. Yukiho, to my left, holds her sandwich dejectedly. She’s been staring at it the whole time, I think. “You’re not going to eat it?” I ask, and she looks at me in a way that resembles a drooping puppy.

“I have this every day… My father’s a bit protective, and he doesn’t trust the school food.” I don’t know much of anything about Yukiho’s family. She never talks much about them, only that her father is kind of a pain. Giving a sigh, she takes a bite.

“He might be right...” Ritsuko muses. Her double braids, as always, are in perfect shape. I don’t know why, but I’m slightly craving fried shrimp. “It isn’t very nutritious. Maybe he’s worried about your health.” So she says, poking her plastic fork at a salad.

My eyes wander, just as my other friend is forming a response. Scanning the area for any sign of her. I don’t expect anything, at this point, but I can’t help but wonder where she is, what she’s doing right now. I know nothing about this girl. We talked for two seconds, but those two seconds play on loop in my head. Yukiho’s voice echoes somewhere far away. “No, I don’t think that’s...”

I stop.

That figure, sitting against the wall… It couldn’t be, could it?

“What is it?” I hear, but don’t answer.

“Ohh, maybe it’s _that_ girl? Go get her, Haruka.”

I don’t need to be told twice. Leaving my things there, I stand and brush off my skirt. It must be her. It has to be. And I’m not going to lose this chance, not to anything or anyone. “Wish me luck!” I say, smiling ear to ear. And I make my way through the crowd, to where she is. As I get closer, her figure becomes clearer. She’s leaning against the wall, reading a book whose cover I can’t see from this angle. I wonder if it’s a story, and what kind? Whatever it is, it’s caught her interest, because she doesn’t even notice me approaching. Her eyes continue to move back and forth, drinking in every word.

“Um…” My voice is too quiet. A bit louder, I say her name. “Chihaya? You remember me, right?” She looks up, eyes wide. Have I surprised her? She’s surrounded by all these people, and yet she’s by herself, absorbed in her reading. Maybe she prefers that...

“Oh… H-Haruka, wasn’t it? What are you doing here?” It’s a silly question, and she seems to realize this right after she says it. Her eyes dodge any contact, face turning pink. Somehow though, it’s kind of nice, knowing that she’s nervous too. I smile, hoping it lightens the mood. “Sorry… That’s obvious. What I meant is, is there something you wanted to say?”

“Oh! Um, I just...wanted to talk to you, I guess!” I say, deciding that honesty is probably best. Making up an excuse would just complicate things, and in the end, all I really want to do is get to know her. “I thought maybe it’d be fun. Can I sit with you?”

She looks at me, silent, as if this was a question she’d never been asked before. But she must have some friend, or had one at some point in her life, right? I can’t be the first person to want to spend lunch with her. Soon enough, she’s marking the page in her book and slipping it back into her bag. I don’t know why it’s just occurring to me now, but her fingers are long and slender. Her movements are kind of...graceful, even though she’s probably not even thinking about it. She looks back up at me. “Sure, if you want,” she says finally, and I don’t waste any time.

I plop down beside her, being careful of my skirt. It’s actually sort of comfortable, sitting against the wall; I can understand why she chose this spot. It's cozy with shade and less foot traffic. I get the feeling that being super social isn't her thing, though this doesn’t bother me. I’m just happy that she’s let me in an inch or two. My smile hasn’t faded one bit. “What were you reading? You seemed pretty into it.”

“Well,” she says, face turning thoughtful, “it’s about...a girl who runs away from her family, to meet her mother who she hasn’t seen since she was a child. But her mother isn’t the kind of person she thought she’d be, and the rest of her family is searching for her...” Her voice is quiet as she recounts the plot of the book. I have to focus my ears to hear it, and I can’t help but wonder if there’s some reason to be secret. There's a captivating quality to her voice, something I don't understand but that makes me want to listen to her forever. She could talk about the weather and I think I'd enjoy it. “Ah, um, sorry. I got a little too wrapped up in it. It’s really a good book.” Huh? Why is she apologizing?

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, still upbeat as ever. Things are falling into a more natural pace; she's still on edge, but I think she's starting to loosen. Once we get past the awkwardness, she’s actually a pretty nice person to be around. It’s hard to describe, but… Something about her makes me feel at ease, I guess? Maybe it’s silly, I’ve only known her for a short time anyway. I'm not sure why I've been thinking about her so much, then and now. It feels a little different from talking with everyone else. “To be honest, I was actually hoping to see you again. But I could never spot you. Our schedules must really be opposite...” I laugh, and her eyes widen.

“No, that’s… I’ve been absent a lot, and today is my first day back in a while. I’ve been doing my best to catch up.” Oh... Maybe that was a sensitive subject. Her words are honest, but there’s something behind them that she’s not saying. Even if she weren’t being vague, she’s avoiding eye contact and turning away. I don’t ask or press; it’s hers to share, after all. But I am concerned, definitely, even if I don’t know why. She must feel the change in mood, because she backtracks.

“A-Anyway… I don’t talk to people very often, so if I say anything weird, that’s why. I’m really happy that you came to sit with me though,” she says, and then looks aside. “But are your friends okay with it?” I blink at her, remembering Ritsuko’s cheer just a few minutes before. There’s no way they _wouldn’t_ be okay with it.

Time to say it. It's something that's been nagging at me this whole time, but I figured it would be odd to say it out of nowhere. But if this is where the conversation is going... “It’s all fine, but more importantly, I want to be friends with you. Maybe I’m saying weird stuff too, but do you think next time you’re at school...we could do this again? I want to talk with you more.” I feel a little funny putting it out there; people don’t usually say these things in words. It's satisfying though, a little exciting. My intent was to reassure her, though, and her reaction is immediate. Surprise turns to a smile that softens, holds back, but I feel so glad to see it that it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t seem like she smiles very easily.

“I’d like that.”

I hadn’t noticed before, but my chest—my heart?—feels strange.


	3. Chapter 3

It isn’t unusual for Makoto to call me, and I sort of...prefer it to texting, if anything. I lied a bit last time she asked, and told her that it’s because it’s easier for me and less intimidating. Which isn’t wrong; I’m not the best at “cute and concise,” but more than that, it’s because I like hearing her voice directly. I like the feeling of it against my ear, and knowing that her words and the things she’s saying are for me. They aren’t things she’d say to just anyone. Maybe there are things she says only to Miki… No, there definitely are, but at least I can have my own piece of her heart too.

I’m sitting on my bed in my pajamas, feet buried in soft carpet and a pillow nestled into my arm. It’s sometime in the evening, but I haven’t gone to sleep yet, and neither has she. We’ve been friends since elementary school, but within the past few years she got busier, and so now our conversations are mostly her talking about everything that happened since last time, especially telling stories about her teammates. I like seeing her happy, so even if it’s not something I can be a part of, I’m fine listening to her as she recounts all the details.

I wonder if Miki cares about these things?

“Really glad the last game went well though…” she says, and suddenly I’m remembering how bright she shone, the sparkle of sweat on her forehead, brow pressed, as she got serious. Sports aren’t a topic I know much about, and I don’t really understand the rules of basketball, but what I do know is how cool she looked, sweeping across the court, weaving in and out. Rather than the ball, my eyes were on her the whole time.

“You were amazing,” I say, kicking my feet gently, idly. My fingers play with the hem of the pillow in my arms, and I hear her scoff. Her tone is lighthearted, but it bothers me even so; does she not realize how much of an impact she has? She must, right? The whole reason we’ve drifted like this is because she’s so popular. Although I know that’s not really what she wants. “The...last part, was really intense huh?”

This, she answers properly, and her tone lifts as she speaks. “Yeah! For a bit there, I wasn’t sure if we would make it. But everyone pulled through.”

I can almost see the grin on her face, and in the pause of conversation, there are many things I wish I could say. They linger on my lips, unspoken. ‘You’re really happy there, aren’t you?’ or ‘I’m glad to see you having fun.’ For some reason, I can’t bring myself to voice them, and the moment passes.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you,” Her words are out of the blue, without a care. I feel a strange anxiety somewhere inside. Before I can answer, she continues, “There’s this...dance thing, the sports teams were invited to, right? Not sure what the deal is, but I...” She trails off, as if afraid to voice her next thought. Still, she does. “I’d like to wear a dress for it. Not anything fancy, you know, just… Something real cute, right? I never get the opportunity to.”

So that’s it… My anxiety quelled, I smile, even though I know she can’t see. It’s good that she asked me about it, though, because while I don’t know about skill in that area, I do know the kinds of things that suit her best. It comes from knowing someone so long and so well, I think. If I weren’t there, and she tried to go shopping on her own… That might not be a very good idea. “I can, um, go with you. If you want…!”

“Thanks, Yukiho!” she says, and my heart flutters a bit. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

If she only knew.

–

The day comes, a not-so-ordinary Saturday. I know she only sees me as a friend, and that it’s pointless to dress up for that, but I wear my favorite skirt anyway. Maybe it’ll be a good luck charm; it’s been so long since I’ve gone somewhere alone with her that I feel sort of nervous. My fingers curl on my lap. Maybe it’s impatience, or maybe it’s just the opposite. Regardless, the car pulls up to the paved area outside the mall, and I unbuckle my seatbelt.

“Be careful. Your father’s orders,” says the driver, and I flinch. He doesn’t look at me—they know not to—but the deep voice echoing already makes me feel clammy. I nod, face likely very pale, and open the door. It’s unusually heavy I think, but I’m used to this. I couldn’t tell you why though. Once I’ve stepped outside, small heels clicking on the sidewalk, and the door is shut tight again, the car and its driver take their leave.

I take a moment to breathe, wishing away the jitters in my legs. That’s when I hear her voice.

“Yukiho!” she calls out, and I lift my head, not having noticed that I was staring at the ground. She runs toward me in her jeans and slightly beat up sneakers. “Hey, thanks for coming today. I know I said it before, but I super appreciate your help.” She flashes me a grin that could kill, and I’m momentarily stunned.

After a moment, I manage to shake my head. “It’s no problem, really… We should get started, though.” My voice is slightly shaky, and I wonder if it’s out of nervousness or lingering effect from the driver’s words. The clamminess has mostly faded, though. I should be okay.

And it is okay, for the most part. We go from store to store, and she tries on various things. Some of them are nice but not quite right, while others, mostly the ones she picked herself, are a _bit_ too much. She leans toward the pink and frilly, while my choices have mostly been cooler. After some amount of this, I think that maybe it’s time to compromise. She looks good in my choices, enough that anyone would be struck by it, but she doesn’t seem to like them as much. If we could just find something in the middle…

“Oh, what about this?” I hear her ask, and turn around. She’s sifting through a rack, her hand gently tugging at the material of another dress. It’s feminine, but not in the extreme as before. Maybe this would work…? I don’t know if it’s something she decided or just coincidence, but it’s good that we’re on the same page. This might not be so hopeless after all.

She’s off to try it on then, and I wait. For all the back and forth, there’s something really nice about spending time with her, and I can’t help but smile. Her eagerness at least is infectious. Dressing femininely isn’t something she gets to do very often. She’s told me about it before, what her father’s said about it and all the expectations. She’s everyone’s prince; that’s the role she plays. But if the prince really wants to be a princess, if she wants to spin around in cute dresses, that isn’t really a bad thing. It’s a little strange to see, when her usual image is so different, but the genuine smile on her face is worth it enough.

The curtain opens then, and she looks brighter than ever. I watch her turn and spin and allow herself to giggle just a bit. It’s mesmerizing; I don’t even remember the last time I saw her this happy. “It looks really good,” I say, looking at it from different angles. Perfect from every one.

“Right? I’ve gotta get this one. I can’t believe I found it...”

She pays for the dress and soon we’re walking around the mall, her carrying the bag with a slight skip in her step. I’m glad to be spending time with her and to see her so cheerful, so I don’t want to think too much, but we still have some time left, and neither of us are really sure what to do with it. We hadn’t planned beyond the shopping part. It’s just when I’m wondering what to say, what to do, feeling that awkwardness creep in, when the food court comes to our rescue.

“Let’s get milkshakes!” she says, spontaneously, and my smile returns.

“Okay.”

We’re sitting at one of the tables then. She has her chocolate, and I have my vanilla, and I think about how opposite we are for the hundredth time. Instead of saying anything, though, I take a sip and listen to her talk. “You know, the dance… We’re actually supposed to bring a date,” she says, honestly, and I have a strange feeling about this. “I can’t really bring Miki, after what happened, but you’re my best friend, so I was wondering if...” The strange feeling becomes hope, blooming in my chest.

“Makoto? Is that you? Aha!” And is immediately crushed again.

I hadn’t thought about Miki the entire day. It hadn’t occurred to me to, but now all that’s crashing down and I’m starting to feel anxious again. Of course she would be at the mall; where else would she be? It was stupid of me to think that I wouldn’t run into her, and even more stupid of me to believe that anything could happen today. I’m only the plain old friend, after all.

I excuse myself and go. I don’t want them to know how my eyes are beginning to sting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she wears short skirts i wear t shirts she's cheer captain and i'm on the bleachers :)


End file.
